


Polite, For A Rude Awakening

by athenril_of_kirkwall (al_fletcher)



Series: Hudson Hawke [4]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age II
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:46:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25639729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/al_fletcher/pseuds/athenril_of_kirkwall
Summary: Hawke learns something troubling over breakfast with Merrill, and has to come clean about his "arrangement" with Athenril in years past.
Relationships: Athenril/Hawke (Dragon Age), Athenril/Male Hawke (Dragon Age), Male Hawke/Merrill
Series: Hudson Hawke [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1252316
Kudos: 3
Collections: DA Drunk Writing Circle Prompt Fics





	Polite, For A Rude Awakening

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for m!Hawke/Merrill, “Daybreak”
> 
> Hawke had an on-and-off thing with Athenril whilst working for her, but that's behind him (or is it?)

Hawke woke up in his bed, with an empty spot on his mattress where Merrill would normally be. He instinctively reached out to check it, noting that the bed was still warm, and sat up, taking a few deep breaths to slow his pulse down after it’d briefly skyrocketed.

Swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress, he started pondering the next question that came to mind, namely where Merrill was. Idly gazing at the rectangle of light on the floor by the window growing brighter as the sun rose above the horizon, he was trying to recall if she’d mentioned whether she had something to do early in the morning.

He was sadly coming up short, his fingernails running along his scalp not helping to jog his memory either. Hopefully he hadn’t said something to offend her last night, or yesterday for that matter. No, not that he could recall.

In fact, they hadn’t really had much in the way of private conversation whilst they were clearing the Coterie out from Darktown— _again_ —given that they’d been in the company of Aveline and Isabela the whole time, and moreover anything been said was probably giving each other heads-ups on yet more assassins, or an apostate throwing fireballs at them from around the corner. They hadn’t said much when they came back and washed up, either.

Well, maybe it was best to ask her in person…wherever she was. Hawke threw on his robe and found his slippers, sensing the scent of breakfast as he headed downstairs, finally seeing Merrill fussing between the kitchen and the main hall, wearing an apron probably appropriated from Orana and finally carrying out a large pot contained something full of spices and flavours.

Noticing that Hawke was coming downstairs, she deposited it on the table, greeting him, “Oh, good morning, Hawke! You’re finally up.”

“Good morning, Merrill,” Hawke said, reaching the bottom of the stairs. “What’s all this about, then?”

“I’d been planning this for a while, actually,” Merrill said, untying the apron and tossing it over a chair. “I’d noticed some herbs we sometimes use for our furmenty on the Storm Coast so in between slicing up Tal-Vashoth I thought I’d make something traditional.”

“Well, this is fantastic, Merrill, but you really didn’t have to—”

“Oh, I won’t hear that,” she said, “We’ve cooked for each other a whole lot, so consider this a favour returned, with nice ingredients this time.”

Hawke considered the gruel in his bowl, holding a spoonful up. “Are you saying the stew I cook on the road _doesn’t_ have nice ingredients in it?”

Merrill pondered the question for the briefest of moments. “Well, no.”

“Oh.”

“Not that you’re _choosing_ not to, I meant! It’s just that we rarely have the chance to cook with fresh herbs, so…oh just try it already, Hawke,” Merrill ordered tenderly.

“Very well,” Hawke said, taking a sip. The taste blossomed in his mouth, savoury on the tip of his tongue, then peppery as it danced on his palate, leaving behind a pleasant aftertaste as he swallowed it down. Looking over to Merrill, he mouthed through the remainder of the frumenty, “This is delicious! You know, when I woke up this morning and didn’t see you there, I was concerned I’d something wrong, but this is—”

“About that,” Merrill said seriously, putting her own spoon down.

One could hear a pin, or a spoon, drop.

Hawke slowly turned his gaze to her as he slowly relaxed his arm enough to put his spoon in his bowl, saying, “Well, seeing as you’ve managed to successfully entrap me with breakfast—”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she huffed, “I wanted to eat this anyway. That’s totally unrelated.”

“In that case, what _is_ this about, Merrill?”, Hawke asked hesitantly, fiddling with his fingers.

Merrill tilted her head coyly, asking, “Did you know you talk in your sleep? It’s actually quite cute, you know.”

“I…have been told, yes,” Hawke said. “What _was_ it that I said?”

“Oh, nothing. Just _her_ name.”

Hawke froze. Of all the women that Hawke knew, only one had such a looming presence over him that even a pronoun referring to her could be said with such acridity. Namely, his former employer and sexual partner (Lover? That word wasn’t in her lexicon.)

Drawing a breath, he tried to explain, “Merrill—”

“And it wasn’t even in full. You muttered ‘Thenni’ a couple of times early in the morning. Hawke, I just need to know: how much do you still think about her?”

He shook his head. “Never. Not consciously. Maybe something about carving up Coterie thugs must have brought some memories of working in her crew. That’s all.”

Merrill sighed, staring into her cereal. “I suppose you’re right, Hawke. It’s just that for someone who was such a large part of your life…”

Hawke said, reaching out for her hand. “No, you weren’t wrong in bringing this up. We had an arrangement on top of my contract, and while I thought I was getting everything I wanted, she was just using that while she was using me. It took a long time, and meeting you, to figure out that it wasn’t healthy. Not our relationship, not our contract…none of it. I know I’d rather crawl in a bottle than talk about it previously, but I think you’re right.”

Merrill curled her fingers, gently holding Hawke’s palm, and nodded in comprehension. “You don’t have to, not right now. But…thank you, Hawke.”

“Thank _you_ , Merrill,” Hawke said. “I think it’s about time I aired it out, and if I can’t with you, there’s nobody else I can. I don’t know if I can ever truly get past what she did to me, but I know I have to try.”

“That’s all I wanted to hear,” she said with a smile. “Now come on, finish your breakfast. It’s getting cold, and I’d hate to see all my hard work this morning go to waste.”

“Understood, messere,” Hawke said, releasing her hand and getting to work on it. “Shall we go back down to the Wounded Coast today?”

“Well, if you’re dealing with those Tal-Vashoth again, I could certainly help you whilst getting more of these. Let me know if you find those trees with the sharp pointy flowers. They’re red. It’s the bark which is giving the frumenty that particular kick.”

Hawke gulped down another mouthful, smiling as he said, “I’ll be sure to do so.”

As it so passed, it was a peaceful day on the Wounded Coast, and they were able to pick out their ingredients relatively undisturbed, enjoying it the next morning—and Hawke even helped out this time.

**Author's Note:**

> Tumblr: https://athenril-of-kirkwall.tumblr.com/post/625208686914240512/


End file.
